


Sharp and Steady

by kryptofreak13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A New Dawn - John Jackson Miller, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, OTP Feels, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26026318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kryptofreak13/pseuds/kryptofreak13
Summary: Months after Gorse, Kanan still remains a mystery.It's probably bad form to drink with your crew member, but Hera does so anyways.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Sharp and Steady

**Author's Note:**

> Desperately wishing they'd write more Pre-Rebels books about Kanan and Hera. I'd love to know how Kanan goes from bad boy to Space Dad. 
> 
> This was an interesting challenge because I've never written Hera's POV before. I also wanted to try out present tense, so hopefully this works.
> 
> It's been a few months since I read New Dawn, but I tried to make this is canon plausible as possible.

To say the day had been rough would be an understatement. Capitol City had been overrun with more bucket heads than normal and the job had gone sour; the crates they’d been sent to pilfer left behind. It’s not a horrible loss, but Hera’s pride still stings. Failure isn’t a word that applies to her often.

So they park the _Ghost_ in a grassy plain, far from any town. A quiet night to clear her head is what she needs. And yet she finds herself seeking out Kanan, bottle of whiskey and two glasses in hand.

He’s sitting at the bottom of the cargo bay ramp, fiddling with the small cube she’s caught him playing with before. There’s an interesting way he always looks at the thing. As if it contains all the answers in the universe, but he’s too afraid to open it and hear them. 

Her footsteps must alert him because he shoves the thing in his pocket and turns towards her. His gaze lands on the bottle and then trails back up to her.

“Nice, but what are you going to drink?” he asks. 

There’s a hint of a sly smile on his face. She didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes seem even brighter now that he’s cut his hair short. It makes his face softer, less rugged and she can’t decide if she likes it better or not.

Rolling her eyes, she plops down next to him and fills up a glass.

“Captain Syndulla,” Kanan drawls in that infuriating way of his, “if I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.”

She throws him a level look before pouring a small amount for herself. 

“Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass to hers. With one smooth motion, he tilts his head back and downs it. After letting loose a low whistle, he adds, “Not bad.”

Hera shoots back her own. The liquid burns her throat and she winces. Hopefully Kanan doesn’t notice. But she hears his guffaw and knows that he has.

“You don’t drink much, I’m guessing?” he asks, teal eyes sparkling.

The arrogance in his tone irritates her, so she takes a second shot, careful not to react this time. “Someone has to stay sharp on this ship,” she replies. It’s mostly teasing but she makes sure that the hint of reproach is audible. Kanan’s good about not drinking on jobs, but that doesn’t mean he’s a saint. On more than one occasion she’s had to pick his ass up from a bar he’d been kicked out of.

If Kanan heard the rebuke, he chooses to ignore it. Smirking, he takes another shot. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asks. When he wasn’t bugging her in the cockpit, he could normally be found in his cabin, doing who knows what. She glances at his pocket. The outline of the cube is visible, and she desperately wants to know what it is. Why he always seems a little lost after playing with it.

“Just wanted some air,” he answers. “I like this planet. Coruscant had too many damn lights. You could never see the stars.” Kanan stiffens as he realizes what he’s said. Almost as if by uttering the planet’s name he’s revealed too much.

She wants him to elaborate, to confide in her. But she knows he won’t, and he doesn’t. So instead she chooses to fill the silence. “They are lovely. Though I prefer the view from up there.”

Kanan exhales through his nose. “Yeah, I know you do.” He pauses for a moment and then says quietly, “Really is something else.”

“Yeah it is.” She pulls her gaze from the stars back to him. Kanan’s not staring at the sky, but rather at her. His eyes are sharp and steady, and she can’t help but feel that he’s seeing her in a way no one has ever before. He can see everything inside her. All her dreams, all her fears. It’s exciting. And terrifying.

Unable to respond, she takes another shot, pleased that the burning is almost nonexistent. Kanan abandons his glass on the ramp, pulling his knees tighter to his chest.

“Have you ever thought what you’d want to do when all this is over?” he asks. He doesn’t elaborate on what “this” is. There's no need, his meaning is clear.

She blinks. It’s the last thing she’d expect Kanan to ask. When all this was over? Would it ever be? All her life she’d known war. First the Clone Wars of the Republic and now the fight against the Empire. It was an established fact. Lothal has two moons. Wookies are hairy. Evil sought to destroy good. There would always be some tyrant to fight.

War had shaped everything. Her family, her people. Even herself. She’d never considered a world beyond it.

She downs a fourth shot and then shakes her head. “No, not really. What about you? Settle down with a pretty girl and start a family?” She says it lightly, waiting for him to laugh it off with her.

To her surprise **,** Kanan doesn’t. He’s silent as he pulls at the grass, shredding the blades into pieces. She watches his fingers wondering how they would feel tracing the patterns on her lekku.

Kriff, where had _that_ come from? Perhaps she’s had too much to drink.

Just when she’s about to change the subject Kanan speaks. “The girl? Most definitely yes. But no to kids.” His voice has a softness to it that she’s never heard before. A great contrast to his usual bravado. He throws the wisps of grass back into the dirt, staring off into the distance. “I doubt I’d make a very good father. Wouldn’t know the first thing about family.”

Foot. In. Mouth.

Guilt tightens her throat. If all the stories were true Kanan would have been taken from his parents as a baby. He’d never known them. The Jedi, the closest thing he would have had, were far from loving and nurturing. And now even they were gone. 

“Kanan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he interrupts with a vague wave of his hand.

He flashes her a smile that’s all teeth and no substance. It’s the one she’s come to recognize as his mask. He slips it on whenever she gets too close to touching the part of him he keeps so carefully hidden.

Three months have passed since Gorse and there’s been no mention of him saving her life. Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s ones of the things he often teases her with. But he purposely leaves out the part where he used the Force to do so. She knows what he was—what he is—even if he won’t admit it. She’s noticed the two pieces he carries on his belt during particularly sticky jobs **,** though he has yet to use them **.** She witnessed enough lightsabers during the Clone Wars to recognize the pieces for what they are. 

There are so many questions she wants to ask but knows she has no right to.

“I’m going to bed,” Kanan says abruptly, standing up.

“I think I’ll join you.” 

His eyebrows shoot up, the corners of his lips twitching with them.

Heat burns across her cheeks as her lekku go rigid. “Not—not like that. You know what I meant.” 

“Sure, Captain.” Kanan reaches out a hand to help her to her feet. Her first instinct is to refuse it, she’s perfectly capable on her own. But then her head swims the moment she tries to stand. Intellect triumphs over pride and she accepts his offer. 

The two stumble back up the ramp. Well, she does. Kanan keeps close, his hands reaching out to support her any time she seems about to fall over. 

No doubt there will be teasing tomorrow. And the next time she criticizes him for drinking. She can practically hear his voice ringing in her ears

 _I seem to recall Captain, last time_ I _was the one carrying_ you _home._

“Hey, you still with me?”

She blinks, her eyelids feeling heavy. They’re standing in front of the cabin doors. Kanan’s biting his lip, failing to hide his amusement. They’re close enough that she can smell the whiskey on his breath. It lingers with another scent—soap? Something sweet and earthy that reminds her of home.

Maybe it’s the combination of alcohol and the rare glimpse of his vulnerability, but she stands on the tips of her toes, kissing Kanan’s cheek. Or at least tries to. She really has had too much to drink. Her legs wobble and she falls forward into his chest. Kanan wraps an arm around her waist, steadying her.

“Whoa. Careful,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “What was that for?”

“I’m not sure,” she answers honestly. Her body has apparently gone rouge from her brain.

Kanan’s face softens. “You should probably get some sleep.” His voice is gentle and soothing as if he’s speaking to a small child. 

He’s about to pull back when she stops him. “Wait.”

Those thick eyebrows of his rise up again. But this time there’s no humor in his expression. Confusion touches his features as he studies her face.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad.”

She doesn’t know what possesses her to say such a thing. Kanan is Mr. Flirts with Everything and Drinks Until the Bar’s Gone. It’s impossible to imagine him cradling a baby or teaching a child something that isn’t how to throw a punch without breaking your thumb.

But she also knows it’s all a facade. Every once in a while, there are cracks that show her the type of person he could have been if not for the Empire. The person he really is if he’d just stop being afraid and allow himself to be.

She can picture him protecting his family with the same ferocity he’s demonstrated toward her. See him instilling his strength and kindness to a youngling with similar teal eyes. 

Something passes across Kanan’s face that she can’t quite read. A strange mixture of disbelief and— Longing? His arm is still around her waist, a warm presence she rather enjoys. He leans in until their faces are a breath away. For a moment she thinks he’s about to kiss her, and a small amount of panic bursts through her. But his lips merely spread into a smile. A genuine one that reaches all the way to his bright eyes. 

“Goodnight, Captain.”

The warmth leaves her as he lets go and heads into his cabin.

Hera stands there for a few seconds, blinking. Shaking her head, she returns to her own room, unsure if it’s disappointment or relief she feels.

The latter—the small rational part of her brain currently not fuzzy—assures her.

Though she doesn’t quite believe it. 


End file.
